


a cellar, a wishing well, a war

by cm (mumblemutter)



Category: Thor (Movies), Thor - All Media Types
Genre: Age Difference, Alternate Universe - Family, Community: kink_bingo, Dubious Consent, Imprisonment, Inspired by Fanart, M/M, Uncle/Nephew Incest, Virginity
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-03
Updated: 2013-09-08
Packaged: 2017-12-17 13:44:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 3
Words: 17,782
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/868226
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mumblemutter/pseuds/cm
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Thor's father warned him not to visit the prisoner.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. (a cellar)

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by [this fanart](http://25.media.tumblr.com/a1a7a6b845908d0da239f8d96c46928a/tumblr_mmglm6jNQO1rt3qeto3_1280.jpg) (work warnings apply), by [bluedevil29](http://bluedevil29.tumblr.com/post/49906882075/fanart) on Tumblr. (Now with beautiful [fanart by villainyforbeginners](http://villainyforbeginners.tumblr.com/post/61596338064/), also!)

(1)

Odin tells him the chains are temporary. Says they are building a prison for him. "In truth," he says ruefully, "we are not yet prepared for the likes of you."

"Why don't you just throw me into a pit, let the hounds have at me."

"Because you are still my brother, and you are still a prince." Odin's voice turns regretful. "I wish it hadn't come to this."

"And I wish your entrails were being chewed upon by ravens. We do not always get what we want."

"Goodbye, brother," is all Odin says in reply before he turns to leave.

And then Loki's alone.

 

(2)

The first few days are the worst.

Loki fears he will go mad, from boredom if nothing else.

He's fed often enough. Cleaned and allowed to relieve himself. Somehow all of this without the slightest chance of escape. When he's not bored out of his wits he does nothing but mull over the decisions that brought him here: the plan that should have worked, but did not.

All his pain, and his sacrifice, and this is what he has to show for it.

It's almost a relief then, when the boy shows up:

He stomps into Loki's cell as if he owns it, as if no-one would dare stop him from venturing where he's not supposed to be. A prison is no place for a child, surely.

The first time Loki saw Thor he was a squalling babe in the arms of his father, held up proudly to the cheering citizens of Asgard. Their future king, born to lead. Born to be loved.

He was exiled soon after, and now Odin's golden child is a young boy, blinking blue eyes at him.

"Well, well," Loki says. "Who let you in here?"

"No one let me in. I'm the prince, I go wherever I want."

"And so you've decided to gawk at the prisoner? Come closer then, if you must."

"I heard you're secretly half Jotunn," Thor says. He continues to stand a safe distance away, his head tilted in curiosity.

"It's not a secret if you know what I am, is it?"

"But Father and you have the same father - so you're still my uncle. Is that why you don't look at all like a Jotun?"

"Come closer, and I'll show you what I really look like." Loki jerks against the chains, and the boy steps back warily. "Are you afraid, little godling?"

"I'm Thor. I'm not afraid of anything." He takes a step forward, and then another.

Loki watches him, considers his options. If he can use the boy to escape. If he can snap the boy's neck, just to make Odin suffer -

Thor reaches out, touches Loki's cheek. He feels hot: Loki can feel the heat radiating from him, warm and golden. "You're not cold. I thought you would be." He sounds disappointed.

"Does your father know you're here, young prince?"

"No. You won't tell him."

"What makes you think I won't?"

"As if he would believe you - he says you're liar." His gaze turns thoughtful. "Perhaps you are colder elsewhere."

Loki's bound wrist is an inch from the boy's throat. He seems unaware of it, unaware of the danger that he's in, simply by standing here.

An inch, and he can shatter all of Odin's hopes. All of Asgard's. But Thor remains tantalizingly out of reach.

He sinks down onto his knees, smiles at Loki. "Are you cooler elsewhere, Jotun?"

"I'm still your uncle, prince. Disgraced, but you will address me with respect."

Thor scowls, but after a moment mutters, "Sorry, ah -"

"You can call me Uncle. Or Loki."

"Loki. I'm Thor. You haven't yet answered my question."

"I know who you are, little boy. As to your question, why don't you try and see," Loki replies, and leers.

Thor jumps back, turns red. "You're sick."

Loki laughs. It sounds terrifying to his own ears. "That's the least of what they say about me."

"Father refuses to speak about you," Thor mutters, with some unhappiness.

"Hmm. I merely said that you could try touching me elsewhere. It was your mind that conjured up depravity." The boy turns even redder. Loki closes his eyes. "Go away, spawn of Odin. You bore me."

A rustle of fabric, the stomping of feet, and when he opens his eyes again the boy's gone.

Thor, son of Odin. Born of lightning and thunder. The day he was born, they say the rains swept the plains, turned the most barren of lands fertile. They say the elder gods were weeping with joy at his birth.

Even after just the one encounter, Loki can tell: they most likely were tears of despair.

 

(3)

Loki spends the next week in the same fit of boredom as the previous weeks. It's dire enough that he even considers making conversation with his keepers, but dismisses it. Odin wouldn't have chosen them if they could be swayed by Loki's words

The wall shimmers, on the seventh day, and a golden head pokes through.

His eyes are bright, and there's color high on his cheeks. "I just finished a training session - today was about the anatomy of the Frost Giants, and how to slay them," he says. "I thought of you, Jotu - Loki."

"Did you?" Loki leans back against the wall, slides down until he's sitting. "Warm thoughts, I hope."

"Well, you're far smaller than the average Frost Giant. I imagine you'd be easier to kill."

"So you're here to kill me, then. Have you ever killed anyone before?"

"Of course I have. I'm a warrior." Thor plants himself down on the floor near Loki, crosses his legs.

"I hope your knife is sharp so I die quickly."

Thor bites his lower lip. "You're lucky I'm not allowed a weapon in here."

"The gods smile brightly upon me today. I feel so blessed."

"I don't think I like your tone of voice."

"If you're not going to kill me, then what do you want?"

"I -" Thor pauses, and Loki sees the glimmering, gossamer thread of hope. "What's Jotunheim like," he asks, in a rush. "Mother says I'm too young to venture beyond Asgard, that the forests should be enough hunting ground for a young prince, but it's not right. I'm not a child."

"Ah," Loki says, and it is on the tip of his tongue to deliver the truth to him: that he is a child, and Jotunheim is no place for soft-bellied princelings, even the sons of great warrior-kings. Instead he lowers his voice, says, "Come closer. Let me tell you a story."

When Loki was younger he travelled, against Bor's wishes, to the darkest depths of a mountain in search of a witch even the Norns had exiled for being too wicked. They had been at war with Jotunheim then, endless and bloody, and all Loki wanted was an end to it.

He found their victory, but also something far, far worse. The truth, in all its ugly, twisted splendor.

"You are my brother," Odin said. "More connects us than mere blood."

"I know this," Loki replied. But then again, he'd always known.

Loki tells Thor none of this.

 

(4)

"Did your father ever tell you stories of our youth?"

"Father tells lots of stories," Thor says, lifting his chin proudly. He's sitting next to Loki, knees pulled to his chest. "He's the fiercest warrior in the realms. Protector of all that is good and sacred."

"Yes, but before that. He was just Bor's brat of a boy. Much like you. Well, not exactly like you. You have a softer feel about you." It's true: even as a child, Odin demanded respect, was daunted by nothing. The price of eternal war, paid for even by the son of kings.

"I am not soft," Thor says, snarling.

"No, you're just reckless and imprudent."

"You dare!"

"If you weren't," Loki continues, as if Thor hadn't spoken at all, "You would not be here. I am as dangerous as they say, you should know."

Thor calms down somewhat, spends a good minute or two considering. "If you were that dangerous, why would you warn me to be wary of you?"

"To lull you into a false sense of security, perhaps."

"Hmm." Thor seems unconcerned. "Tell me more about the time you ventured into Muspelheim, and fought for thirty days and nights."

Loki does as he's told.

 

(5)

Thor visits him the next day, and the day after that. Loki comes to expect his visits, part of him even looks forward to them, if only for a brief respite from the boredom.

After his classes, after training, in the limited precious free time a young prince is afforded each day, Thor is in Loki's cell, as if he has nothing better to do except listen to Loki tell half-truths and lies.

He's just a boy, after all, for all that he's the spawn of Odin.

Just a boy.

"There was an Elf maiden," Loki says. "Your father was so enamoured with her."

"No, Father only loves Mother."

"As glad as I am that that particular political marriage worked out, it wasn't always the case. Are you going to listen to me or will you continue to rudely interrupt."

"I'm only correcting you when you lie."

"Fine," Loki says. "I'm a liar. Leave, then. I clearly have nothing to say that you might want to hear."

"I will," Thor says. He rises to his feet, glares at Loki before storming off. Loki laughs, as low and as mocking as he can manage.

 

(6)

He returns, for he must return, and Loki ignores him for the longest time. Leans his head against the wall and closes his eyes, and he doesn't have to open them to know the boy is fidgeting, all nervous energy, and trying to think of an appropriate opening line. "You will speak to me, prisoner," he says, in the end. "As prince of Asgard, I demand it."

"As you command, your highness." Loki opens his eyes, smiles. "What would you like me to say?"

Thor thumps himself down to his usual spot on the floor and crosses his arms. "The truth. No more lies about my father."

"Her name was Laxwana. Ask him."

"I will."

"Fine. What if I tell you I was the one madly in love with her?"

"Go on," Thor says, only slightly wary.

Loki weaves a tale of unrequited love, of adventure and quests and rival suitors. It comes easy, the best lies are always embedded in truth. Odin fell in love hard and easily, and Loki spent half his youth embroiled in one exploit after another. Thor's eyes are wide by the time he's done. "Do you -" he halts. "What's it like?"

"What, being in love?"

Thor rolls his eyes. "Not love."

"You're too young, surely. I will tell you when you're older. Or you can find out for yourself - you're hardly a hideous beast, I doubt you'll find yourself short of maidens crawling all over you." He cannot quite keep the bitterness out of his voice.

Thor raises his head in surprise. "But have you ever -"

"What?" Loki leans forward, as far as his chains allow.

Thor jerks back, flushes from the base of his throat upwards. "Mother says I am to treat all girls with respect. But Sif hits me all the time, I don't think it's fair that I'm not allowed to fight back."

"You should be allowed to fight back. This Sif - is she a maiden of the court?"

"No, she's a warrior in training, like me."

"All the more you should be able to fight back. It's only fair, not just to you, but to her as well. Others will not be so respectful." Thor continues to look conflicted. A thought crosses Loki's mind, followed swiftly by the realization of how absured this all is. "Do you like this Sif?"

"She's a fierce warrior, and very brave. We are comrades."

"That is not an answer."

"It is," Thor says, and shrugs. His eyes darken, attention shifting elsewhere from one heartbeat to the next. "Did the Elf enjoy your kiss? They burn hot, or so I have heard. You must have been so cold to her." He scoots forward, tilts his head back until their faces are merely inches apart.

"Are we back to this, then?" Thor's fingers are somehow on Loki's lips, pressing gently against them.

"You can just answer me instead of always -" he drops his hand abruptly, but does not move away.

 

(7)

Thor brings a book, but clutches it to his chest, out of reach, and says, "Show me first."

Loki sighs. "As you wish."

It's not easy, he never finds the state natural, only managed control over it recently. Strange, that. For all that this is who he truly is.

Thor's eyes widen in appropriately comical fashion. He drops the book to the floor and scoots forward, presses his palms to Lokis face. "I've never seen a Frost Giant before," he says.

"Half Frost Giant," Loki corrects him.

His hands are too warm, or maybe it is Loki's skin that is too cold. His fingers travel over the planes of Loki's face, tracing the lines on them. "I am not afraid of you." He sounds dazed.

"And why would you be? I'm me. If you meet a Jotun in combat, then you will know fear."

Thor snorts, and rolls his eyes. "I will slay each and every one of them," he says. "Except you. You I'll keep."

Their faces are inches apart. Loki imagines he can see his own reflection in the boy's eyes. Blue skin, red eyes. And yet Thor does not flinch. Does not show disgust, or fear. "I am not your pet, tiny princeling. You owe me a book."

Thor moves away as if half asleep, reluctantly, drags the heavy tome close. Disappointment etches itself across his face when he glances up, book open across his knees, and Loki's reverted back to his usual form. He says nothing, though. Merely flips a page and bends his head down yet again.

"I hope you have brought me something worthy." Loki pauses. "I hope you can read."

"I can read. Now, shush."

 

(8)

"I heard my boy has been bothering you," Odin says.

"Oh, he's hardly a bother. Just a noisy distraction, much like his father."

"I've ordered him not to venture down here, but he's the most stubborn of boys." He speaks genially, as if they are still brothers discussing the impetuousness of youth.

Loki keeps his face blank, his voice smooth. "It's a - pleasant enough respite from this." He jerks pointedly at the chains holding him.

"The prison is almost ready," Odin says. "You will find it far more comfortable."

"Of course I will, you're not a monster, not you."

The smile slips off Odin's face. "He's just a boy, Loki. Your blood, if that means anything at all to you."

"And what do you imagine I can do to him, powerless and chained like a dog in the dungeons?" Odin doesn't respond, and Loki sighs.

"I promise no harm will come to your precious child, if my word means anything at all to you."

"It used to, and it can again," Odin says. He sounds kind, and Loki has never loathed anyone more, never felt more helpless.

"You ask too much. Accept my word, for that is all I have to offer."

 

(9)

"What happened? Fell down a well?"

Thor scowls down at his crossed feet, fidgets with the buckles on his boots. The bruise is red, blossoming on his cheek and spreading upwards to his temple. He will heal fast enough, but it must have been some kind of blow. "I was hit with the flat of a sword," Thor says, and scowls even further. "Father says I need to be stronger, so now I have to train with the Einherjar, and for more hours of the day."

"What, and you don't like it?" Loki tilts his head.

"It's not that I dislike it - I will be the greatest warrior the realms have ever seen, but." There's something uncertain in his voice, a faint kind of wavering.

"Come here," Loki says.

Thor rises to his knees, shuffles forward. This close, Loki can tell that he has been weeping. "I do not want to disappoint Father."

"I do know what that's like," Loki says, and flashes him a distant smile. "Anyone that called your grandfather a tyrant was being kind."

"But Father says that Grandfather was a wise and just king," Thor says, sounding dubious.

"Is that what he tells you? It's a better story than the truth, I suppose. And that's all that matters in the end."

"No. The truth matters, it's all that matters." He's drifted closer somehow, tilted forward enough that Loki can touch the bruise with the tips of his fingers if he stretches hard enough. Thor flinches, then relaxes, allows Loki to press down on the hot, reddened skin.

"The Einherjar," Loki says, and pretends to consider. "You want to win, yes?" Thor nods his head, just a little. "They are far bigger and stronger than you, but brute force is not the only way to defeat an opponent."

"Ah," Thor says. "Tell me."

 

(10)

Thor brings an apple pie, fresh from the kitchens if its scent is any indication. Made from the rarest of golden apples plucked from the only tree that bears it, and served only to royalty.

Certainly nothing a disgraced prisoner will be fed.

"I thought you might be hungry," Thor says.

"They do feed me, you know."

"But this is special." His chest puffs up slightly. "You best eat it, after all the effort I made to get it."

The royal chefs, unimpressed by even the brattiest of children. Some things never change.

Loki can taste the memory of the apples in his mouth. It's been years.

Thor holds the plate out, says, with some disappointment, "I forgot to bring a fork. I will have to feed you by hand then."

"Or you could release me. Just the one hand." Loki tries for a beguiling smile and spares a glance at the chains binding him. "I promise not to escape."

"You keep assuming I'm stupid," Thor says, sounding cross.

"Well, you are a son of Odin."

Thor cuts a slice of the pie, puts it up to Loki's mouth. "Eat," he says.

He watches as Loki chews, watches as Loki swallows, watches as Loki savors the taste, as the sense memories overwhelm him. It's messy, deliriously so - crumbs all over his shirt and sauce on his chin, sticky over Thor's fingers.

Thor puts his fingers to his own mouth, licks them clean before reaching out to break off another piece of pie, to slide it in between Loki's teeth. Loki bites down too soon, and he stops, fingers caught in Loki's mouth for a moment, just a moment. Loki has to turn away, has to remind himself who this boy is.

Has to remind himself he is a child.

He finishes most of the pie, and when Thor finally stops Loki's full, but not sated. Full, but not satisfied.

"Thank me," Thor says

"Are you just going to leave me in a mess like this," Loki says instead, despite himself.

Thor considers. Then he leans forward, spider quick, presses his open mouth to Loki's sticky chin. He licks Loki like a cat would, with the sort of serious intent only the young can truly manage. His knee slides in between Lokis legs, presses against his crotch. Loki can't help it, he moans and cants his hips upwards, blood rushing to his cock.

Thor must notice, he stiffens and goes still, his breath turning harsh and ragged. After a long moment, right when Loki's about to speak, his shoulders relax and he continues to lick his way across Loki's jaw, his little teeth nipping at Loki's skin.

He pulls back after a while, says with some satisfaction as Loki shudders, "There. You can thank me now, Uncle."

"Thank you," Loki says, through grit teeth.

Thor smiles.

 

(11)

After that, Thor seems to take any opportunity to touch him.

He brings chocolate, breaks off pieces to tease Loki with. Leans in close to brush Loki's hair from his forehead, his own hair grazing across Loki's cheek. He slips his fingers under the manacles, worries at the bruises forming on Loki's wrists. He smells like grass and sunshine and sweet, heady youth. Loki tolerates it, tries his level best to be unfazed, but triumph flashes in Thor's eyes more often than not.

Loki loses his patience, finally, as Thor is stroking his thumb against a vein in Loki's throat. "Enough," he says.

Thor falters, his hand still on Loki's neck. "What am I doing?"

"You know exactly what you're doing, you little brat. And I've had quite enough of it."

"Don't be rude," Thor says. The color is rising to his cheeks, the dreamy expression on his face fading away.

"On the contrary, I believe I have been perfectly civil."

"You are never truly civil."

"Unlike you?"

Thor tilts his head to the left, looks thoughtful. "And what if I ask?"

"I will say no." Loki opens his mouth slightly, watches Thor with some expectation.

Thor hesitates. "What if I don't ask."

Loki doesn't respond, stares at him with heavy lids instead.

After a moment, Thor nods his head. He pulls apart Loki's coat, reaches underneath to undo the laces on his shirt. He does this slowly, with uncertain fingers.

Loki remains silent, thinks he will stop, surely.

He's a child, he does not understand what he is doing.

And so, he will stop.

His face is nothing but determination, though, and when he finally pushes aside Loki's unlaced shirt he hums a little, satisfied, before sliding his small hand down Loki's bare chest. His fingernails are blunt, slightly ragged around the tips. Loki used to bite his nails: he was persuaded otherwise soon enough. Bor tolerated no weaknesses, not even in his half-breed children. Odin must be a kinder father, but then, Loki already knows that.

Thor halts his movement at Loki's stomach, and Loki can feel his muscles flutter underneath his fingers. He wants Thor to keep moving, wants Thor to notice how hard Loki's cock is, just from this. He wants Thor to stop, and leave, and return just a little older. Perhaps far older, when it might be barely appropriate, if one could call anything about this appropriate.

Loki can't decide: what kind of monster is he?

The decision is taken out of his hands soon enough, with Thor's fingers wandering to his breeches. His mouth opens, he wets his lower lip with his tongue, and Loki can't think for how beautiful he is, how full of promise.

Thor, child of Odin.

And so: this kind of monster, then.

"Stop - stop this right now."

Thor pulls away slightly, his eyes wide and beguiling. "But you don't want me to. I can tell." He cups Loki's cock through his breeches and Loki jerks, shimmies up into him.

"I've seen it done," Thor says, in that entirely assured way he has. "I know what it means."

"Seen -" Only seen. "Stop," Loki says again, knowing that Thor isn't listening, won't listen.

"But you want me."

"I have been chained here for six months. I would want a dog at this point." It's enough to give Thor pause, hurt flashing across his face. But only for a moment, before the smile returns.

"But I am far better than a dog, am I not?"

"Continue to behave in this manner, and I wouldn't say far." Thor leans in closer, close enough that Loki can feel his breath, sweet and moist, against his cheek.

His fingers have been undoing Loki's laces without Loki even noticing, and now his hand closes around his cock. He's so small, but his fingers are strong. Years of training: not much different from Loki's grueling regime as a child, he's certain. But Thor probably enjoys it, far more than Loki ever did.

He pictures the boy suddenly, vividly: on his knees, red-faced, with Loki's cock in his mouth.

Odin's boy. Prince of Asgard, heir to all the riches the realms have to offer. On his knees for Loki. It draws a moan out of him, entirely despite himself.

Thor puts his free hand, the one not currently driving Loki mad, on Loki's throat. Loki turns his head away, but Thor slides his thumb along his jawline, tilts it upwards towards him.

"Stop," Loki says, the final time. But his words are lost in the softness of Thor's mouth, the press of his wet lips against Loki's.

This is a wildly terrible idea.

And yet, after the longest of moments, Loki kisses him back.

In the end, Thor stares at his own hand wrapped around Loki's cock, open-mouthed with fascination. His lips are faintly bruised from Loki's kiss, and Loki can't do anything but watch his face, as Thor jerks him off ineptly, alternating between squeezing too hard and not enough. It doesn't matter, Loki finishes soon enough, long hot spurts that he notes with some satisfaction splatter against Thor's pristine red tunic.

Thor lifts his wet fingers to his mouth, tongue flickering out to taste. He makes a face, then shrugs.

Loki, for once, cannot think of a single thing to say. Instead he instinctively tries to move his arm, to brush the falling hair out of Thor's face. The shackles bite into his wrists, and Loki cannot help but wince.

Thor glances at the chains, then back at Loki. "I'm sorry," he says, so sweetly and sincerely. He leans down to kiss Loki, and yet again he tastes exactly like he smells, exactly like a prince of Asgard should. All the realms at his feet, and yet here he is.

Here he is.

Loki breaks the kiss finally, unable to take a moment more.

Thor blinks at him and smiles, rests his head on Loki's chest, against the rapid beat of his heart.

"Father says your new prison will be ready tomorrow," he says, as he readies to leave. "He sends his regards."

"Tell him - tell him he should be grateful for my mercy."

Thor frowns.

"He'll understand," Loki says.


	2. (a wishing well)

(12)

The new prison built for him is glass walled-and spacious. Loki supposes it's fit enough for royalty: there aren't many royals who have been imprisoned for treason in Asgardian history. 

Part of the problem with the Aesir is their unwavering loyalty. At least the Midgardians know that sometimes a coup is just needed, all the blood that comes along with it a necessary sacrifice.

Loki's provided with books upon request, but none of a magical nature. The bed is comfortable enough, and the only guard stands outside the door and rarely glances in.

"Fit for a king, eh?" he tells Odin, when his chains are removed. "Or a disgraced prince."

"It is the best that I could do." He sounds tired, and Loki glares at him before he crosses his arms, turns his gaze deliberately away until Odin leaves.

No magic can penetrate the walls. He's powerless. But at least his movements are not restrained.

Time slows to a deadly crawl, uninterrupted by anything at all. Loki throws a cup at the glass once: it shimmers and the cup drops harmlessly to the floor.

Loki reads, and paces, and waits, until he feels even his blood turn sluggish with inaction. His very bones ache for some kind, any kind, of distraction.

A young brat of a prince perhaps, a voice in his head pipes up.

Loki shoves at the voice until it disappears.

The third week passes by, and on the last day of the fourth Loki asks the guard serving his lunch, "You seem to be in a rather jovial mood. Anything interesting?"

The guard pauses, but then replies blandly, "Ah, it's the prince - we have been celebrating, he hunts for glory, and we await his return." 

"Alone? Surely he's not yet old enough." Loki remembers the rite of passage, how both him and his steed had gone tumbling down a ravine. Loki survived, but the horse's legs were broken, and it was his duty to put him out of his misery.

He had been a good horse.

"He is of the correct age."

Too young. Odin must see so much promise in him. "Thank you," Loki says, and pauses, searching for the name.

"Bjorn, your highn-"

"Bjorn," Loki says, and tries for a smile.

Bjorn doesn't smile back.

 

(13)

The sixth week, the boy stands outside the glass wall with his hands tucked behind his back, watching. Loki rises, surges forward until he almost touches the glass. Thor steps back, and Loki grins, sharp and feral. 

He would see it as a challenge.

Soon enough, Thor steps into his cell. Loki glances outside: the guard is there, watchful for once.

Thor looks around the room, says, "This is far better than the previous place." 

"Indeed." Loki holds up his unbound hands. "Somehow I doubt your father will approve of you being here now that I'm not chained up like a dog." 

"Father knows that I can take care of myself." 

"So I've heard." 

Thor puffs up slightly. "I killed a frost bear, guess where?" 

Loki raises a brow. "The All-Father let you go to Jotunheim? Is it no longer forbidden, then."

"It is," Thor says. He glances outside the glass wall briefly. "I wasn't supposed to go there. I was supposed to hunt in Alfheim instead. But I - you showed me how, remember?"

"Ah, indeed I did." Loki feigns surprise. 

"It is a place forsaken by the gods. It's a wonder grandfather sojourned there and mated with a female." 

Loki returns to the bed, sits with his back against the wall. Thors gaze follows him, skitters across his body and then away. "Never underestimate the appeal of the exotic," Loki says.

Thor wanders closer, but still out of easy reach. "Was she pretty, your mother?" 

"I wouldn't know. I was given to Asgard as part of the peace treaty as a baby. I doubt I even suckled at her breast before I was ripped away." 

"Ah." He pauses. "But you are a prince of Asgard." 

Loki spreads his hands out wide to encompass the space. "And look where it has gotten me." 

"It's your own fault." 

"So they say. Tell me, little prince. How was it, your first kill?"

"It was glorious," Thor says, but his jaw tightens. 

"The first time is always the hardest." 

"I am a warrior, I feel no fear." Thor jerks his chin up. 

"So you are here to tell me of your exploits then? Go ahead. I don't have anything else to do."

 

(14)

"Where is the guard," Loki asks. He'd disappeared not five minutes before Thor stepped into Loki's cell. 

"There's a lady he is enamored over - I believe she paid him a visit and now they are occupied elsewhere."

"And so you are alone then. Defenseless." Loki narrows his eyes and crosses his arms across his chest. "Foolish. Do you still not know who I am? What I am capable of?"

"You can't hurt me," Thor says, with some confidence.

Loki takes two swift strides forward, and to his credit Thor has already braced himself to strike back, but Loki has vastly more experience and skill, and he's on his back with Loki's arm around his throat and Loki's knee against his sternum in seconds.

Thor struggles, but must realize eventually that it's futile, and resorts to glaring at Loki and snarling, "Release me. I demand that you -" 

"You demand nothing, son of Odin. Now you know what it's like to be powerless."

Thor's face is turning red, so Loki loosens his grip. "I don't want to fight you," he says, in a voice thick with rage. 

"No, you want something else." Loki releases him, rises to his feat and hauls him up. Thor touches his throat gingerly, at the finger shaped bruise already starting to form. 

"You are a wretched creature," he says. 

"Yes. But I could have killed you, and yet I did not." Thor just stares at him. "Leave me, Thor. Before I change my mind."

Thor backs out of the room slowly, and only turns to flee once he is out of it.

 

(15)

"I brought you a gift, Uncle. Perhaps it will improve your mood." Thor tosses the fur at him. It is the purest white, soft to the touch. 

Loki wraps it around his shoulders, jerks his head towards the space next to him. Thor sits down on the bed gingerly, his hands twisted in his lap. 

"How is your throat?" 

"Healed." There is only the faintest bruise left. They are not easy to mark. 

"I am sorry," Loki says. 

Thor's eyes widen slightly. "You are not."

"Hmm," Loki says. He reaches forward, ghosts his fingers over the fading bruises. "And yet you refuse to leave. Whatever shall I do with you."

"Nothing. I don't want you to do anything." But he leans closer, and Loki can't tell if it's conscious or not, the way his gaze turns hazy and glazed.

He is still a child.

Loki swallows. 

"You should kiss me now, Jotun," Thor says, but he sounds hesitant.

"Loki. You call me Loki. Let us not move backwards."

Thor licks his lips, leans forward. "You should kiss me now, Loki."

"No."

"Then I shall tell Father what you have done to me, and see what he has to say about it."

"I see. And you consider that an honorable way to behave?"

"I -" Thor falters, turns red. "I did not mean, I meant -"

Loki tires of it. He grabs a fistful of tunic, hauls Thor into his lap. "You want a kiss, do you?"

It's harsh, the kiss. More punishment than anything else, but Loki finds himself softening as Thor sighs into it, does nothing more but fall into Loki and allow himself to be taken. 

It's the only reason why Loki shows mercy, why he follows it with another kiss not meant to bruise, and then another, and another.

"The guard will be back soon," Thor says. They have been kissing for what seems like hours.

Loki tells himself that the damage was already done, that his guilt should not multiply the further he falls into this madness. It doesn't help much. Thor's hand wanders to his waist, slides under his shirt as he moves forward to resume the kiss. "I thought you said the guard is returning." 

"Soon, but there's still time." He pulls away though, breaks into a scowl. "I don't understand why there is so much glass. Your previous room was better." 

"It was an abandoned wine cellar."

"But we were alone." He shimmies, and Loki groans, despite himself.

"Go," Loki says, shoving him away. "If we get caught the consequences will be unimaginable."

Thor kisses Loki again before he leaves, hot and sweet. "I will return tomorrow, Loki."

"Bring me something."

 

(16)

Thor gives him a book of spells. Forbidden, but Thor must already know that.

"Rudimentary," Loki says as he flips through the pages. 

"Then give it back." He makes a grab for it, but Loki holds it out of his reach easily. He is so _small._

"I will keep it because it is from you," Loki says, and watches as Thor colors. Was he ever this young? He can't remember. It was always the bitterness of being the half-breed bastard son of Bor, always the humiliation of being gifted at magic, not brute force. 

Thor is Odin's only child. 

Favored, sheltered, beloved.

And yet here he is, blushing at Loki's words. "Come here," Loki says, and can't hide the thickness in his voice.

The book is forgotten as he lifts Thor up and kisses him. Thor moans and wraps his legs around Loki's waist, fingers gripped in the lapels of his shirt, and Loki stumbles in the direction of the bed, settling Thor down on the mattress.

He drags Loki down with surprising force, and Loki ends up on his back with the boy half on top of him, tugging on his tunic. 

"Wait," Loki says, as Thor accomplishes his goal and drags Loki's cock out. 

"What?" He blinks heavily at Loki. 

Loki allows his head to fall down onto the pillow, says, "Nevermind."

It's Thor's mouth that envelopes him, a hot surprise that causes Loki to jerk his hips upwards involuntarily. Thor pulls away, offers him a small smile, and Loki drags himself up until he's almost sitting, his back against the wall. Says, "You don't need to."

Thor just lowers his head again. 

It's not the best Loki's ever had - not even close, he's never been in the habit of bedding virgins - but perhaps he's starting to understand the allure, even though it's mostly the scrape is teeth and an ill-practiced tongue and very little in way of a rhythm. Loki manages to refrain from thrusting up into his mouth, settles his hand on the back of Thor's neck instead. 

Until he tires of it, and then he grabs a fistful of hair, tugs Thor upwards. He finishes quickly with his other hand, grunts and splatters all over Thor's open mouth and face.

Thor looks surprised, but only rises to his knees to pull his tunic off. He wipes his face with the inside of it before tossing it aside. "You'll have to wear that again," Loki says, mild. 

"Oh," Thor says. He shrugs, before crawling forward for a kiss. He tastes like Loki, and Loki thinks, faintly delirious, that he has crossed a line now. 

Thinks, perhaps, this means the boy is his now.

 

(17)

"Father's not happy that I went to Jotunheim," Thor says. He's on the bed, cross-legged and shirtless, book open on his knees. "Why do you want me to read to you again? You can do it yourself now." 

"Perhaps I just enjoy the sound of your voice." 

"Oh," Thor says, and lowers his head. 

"And of course he's not happy - it's dangerous." 

"Everyone treats me like a child. I'm sick of it - I'm not allowed anywhere." 

"You are a child." Thor's hair has fallen into his face. 

Loki tries to push it back, but Thor weaves away. "I'm not a child." Loki rolls his eyes, and Thor snaps the book shut, shoves it at him. "Read it yourself." 

Loki catches him by the waist of his trousers as he's storming off and drags him into his lap. Thor squirms, but settles down quickly enough, his back stiff against Loki's chest. "All right, you are not a child," Loki whispers into his ear.

"Prove it," Thor says. He takes Loki's hand, presses it to his crotch, and Loki can feel his cock harden through the material. 

"You should be careful about what you demand, Thor. You might just regret it."

Thor snorts.

It's a challenge, then.

Loki wraps an arm around Thor's waist before he undoes his breeches, wraps his fingers around his cock. He brings Thor to the edge, and then back again, and to the edge, and back again, until Thor is hissing, trying to arch up into his hand and calling him names.

"I told you," Loki says, before he feels sorry enough that he lets Thor finish, sticky and wet into his palm. 

Loki puts his hand to Thor's mouth, and after a few moments of harsh breathing that Loki feels, moist against his palm, Thor's tongue flickers out and he licks Loki clean.

 

(18)

"There's a tree in Nornheim," Loki says, because Thor always demands stories. "It's rumored to be over ten millennia old. Its roots are high enough and its trunk thick enough that you can walk under it and find yourself lost, never to be seen again."

"Are there creatures to slay?" 

"You'll have to find that out by yourself." 

"I will never be allowed," Thor says, features slipping into that increasingly familiar scowl. 

"I would take you there, but. Well." 

"You won't be imprisoned forever, will you? You can say you are sorry."

"I am not sorry," Loki says, more harsh that he'd intended. 

Thor jumps. "You should be." 

"You understand nothing at all, do you? Your father does not forgive, nor does he forget. I will be imprisoned here forever, until all the realms has forgotten my name. It is only fortunate that I was not executed - which by the way, I certainly will be if he finds out what I have done to his only son."

"That's not true," Thor says, but he looks troubled. "Father will forgive, in time." 

"And in time, you might cease to be a naive brat, but I will not hold my breath for either."

Thor only chews on his lower lip in response.

Loki sighs. "Just leave - I have had quite enough of you."

 

(19)

He doesn't see Thor the next day.

Or the next, or the day after that.

But then the guard does not leave his post. 

"Problems?" Loki asks, as he's being served breakfast. 

The man shrugs. "Women, eh? Never satisfied." 

"You should talk to her. I find communication resolves most issues." 

"We'll see."

Two full weeks, before he finally listens to Loki's advice. Timely, for Loki was about to stab him in the eye with his fork.

Thor slinks in the first day the guard disappears for his afternoon tryst. "I've decided I forgive you, as father will eventually." 

Loki opens his mouth, then shuts it again. Thor is on him before he has time to say much anyway, and whatever Loki wants to say is lost in his hungry, almost desperate kiss.

Loki shoves Thor down onto the bed as they grab at each other, and it is only when Thor is naked and Loki is settled between his legs that Loki pauses.

To breathe.

To push what he wants to do out of his head.

He slides down Thor's body instead, takes his cock into his mouth. Thor moans and closes his eyes, presses his cheek into the pillow and Loki thinks: he could. Thor would not stop him.

He pulls away, ignores Thor's sigh of discontent and waits for him to open his eyes. "What?" 

"Nothing," Loki says, and lowers his head yet again. He kisses the inside of his thigh before licking a stripe up the underside of his cock. Thor will not last long, Loki knows. What he doesn't know is what he will do. His own cock is so heavy between his legs, and he _wants._ He slides up again, hooks Thor's legs over his shoulders starts to thrust between his closed thighs. He says, "I want you," and watches as Thor's eyes widen.

"You -" Thor swallows, hesitates. "You may have me, if you want." There is no shame in his voice, no fear. Just honesty. 

It is the only reason Loki does not, in the end.

 

(20)

Thor still brings him food, almost daily. Rolls fresh from the oven, fresh fruit from the royal gardens, different types of cheese, a translucent, golden candy made from the rarest of honeys and apples and meant only for royalty - although the candy always ends up in Thor's belly rather than Loki's, leaving his face and hands a sticky mess that Loki is obliged to lick clean.

Loki starts to get used to his visits, starts anticipating them somewhat, perhaps. Desire is a strange thing, something he has felt rarely for anything other than power, but Thor -

"I was not joking when I said your father would execute me if he found out." Loki says.

Thor's on his belly, half clothed and sated. He yawns and fidgets, not paying a lick of attention until Loki puts a finger on his spine, slides it up his back. Then he shivers, turns his head to smile at Loki. "He will not find out."

Loki flexes his fingers, brings himself to say, "Everything has to end. It is the way of all things." 

Thor just rolls his eyes, and goes back to ignoring Loki. "You are such a bore sometimes." 

"It's called adulthood." Loki leans down, presses a kiss to Thor's shoulder. "But I shall not bring it up again."

"Hm," Thor says. "Will you show me your true self?"

"This is my true self."

"No, you know what I meant."

"You have already seen it."

"But not all of you." There is a gleam in his eyes, but as Loki continues to feign ignorance he falters, sucks his lower lip between his sharp little teeth.

"I assure you my cock looks largely the same," Loki says.

Thor sits up. "Show me," he says, and from the stubborn cant of his chin Loki knows there is no point in arguing: the boy will get his way, as all firstborn princes eventually do.

Loki takes his time undressing. He removes his shirt first, before dragging his breeches past his hips to settle around his thighs. It is biological, who he is. It should not be hard. 

And yet it is. 

He does not glance down as Thor's hand curves around his cock, as he exclaims softly, "It feels different." 

"Does it," Loki says, not caring at all. He wraps his own fingers around Thor's and slides his hand down his already hardening cock. "It feels the same to me."

"Perhaps it tastes different as well." He lowers his head before Loki can say another word, and finally, Loki looks down.

 

(21)

It's when he's being served lunch that Loki asks, "How is your lady friend, Bjorn? You never did tell me the young lady's name."

"It's Lagerta." 

"Oh, her," Loki says. 

"You have heard of her?"

"Oh, no. Not at all. I'm sure she's a lovely young woman. You are very lucky." 

Bjorn does not look as if he considers himself very lucky. Instead he slams Loki's cup down onto the table and says, "Enjoy your lunch," with a frown deepening on his face. 

"Thank you, Bjorn."

Thor arrives a little later, going on about some training nonsense that Loki barely pays attention to, straddling Loki's lap as if he belongs there, as if he fits and always has. His arms loop around Loki's neck and his breath tickles his jaw as he continues to natter on, and Loki says, "You do not always have to play their game. Change the rules."

"But the rules are important. Or else it's cheating."

"Then you will keep losing."

"No, I will keep training until I am strong enough to defeat all of them."

Loki settles his hands on his waist and says, "That might take a while. You have a ways to go yet."

"I will be bigger than you someday," Thor says with confidence. "Stronger."

"But not today," Loki says. 

Thor wraps his fingers in Loki's hair, tugs his head back. "Perhaps today."

"Perhaps no-"

There's shouting, first and foremost. Bjorn rushing in, his voice a high yell. Thor shouting back, irritation, anger and then fear, most of all fear, etched across his face. Bjorn pulls Thor off Loki, and Thor says, "Unhand me. How dare you touch me without permission."

"Your highness," Bjorn begins.

"Leave us!"

But even a guard knows that in a situation such as this, it is best to face the wrath of a princeling than it is to leave him in danger and have to answer the King afterwards. 

Loki puts on a stricken expression, is surprised that it is not hard to feign being upset, as Thor is hauled away, his protests resoundingly ignored.

And then Loki is alone, once again.

 

(22)

"My own son." Odin is pacing, something Loki has rarely seen him do. "Of everything I ever thought you capable of. He is your nephew." Loki examines his fingernails, waits until Odin snaps, "Loki!"

"Oh, was I supposed to respond?" He glances around the prison. "As you can see, it is not as if I had other means of entertainment."

"I will not stand for this."

"And what will you do? Banish me?"

Odin looks thoughtful. "That is what you want, yes? Banishment? Do not think I am unaware of your collusion with the Frost Giants?"

"You mean with my own people? With a mother that I have seen only a few times since birth?"

"And for this - for all the ways you imagine we have wronged you, you take my son? An innocent?"

"He is hardly innocent," Loki says. "I am a prisoner here, he came to _me._ Perhaps you should examine your failure to raise him properly rather than come here to wail at me for taking what was offered freely."

"He is a _child._ He doesn't know what he's doing, or what he wants."

Loki has to look away. Odin is not wrong. "I do not care," he says. "Punish me as you will. But do spare me the lecture, for I have had quite enough of being schooled by the likes of you."

"If I took your life - would that satisfy you? Your own blood, Loki," Odin says, and he sounds sad, as if he has just realized what Loki has known for centuries: that he is beyond hope, beyond saving. That there likely was never anything worth saving to begin with.

"You bore me. Go away." 

A new guard replaces Bjorn. This one rejects all attempts at conversation Loki makes, not that Loki didn't expect him to - he's from the royal guard. He will not be swayed by harlots or the charm of a princeling.

And yet he disappears as well, one afternoon. Loki says, when the door slides open, "Well done."

Thor beams, but sobers almost immediately. He hurls himself into Lokis arms, and after a moment Loki allows himself to hug him back. His cheeks are wet against Lokis neck as he say, "I'm sorry, this is all my fault."

"It is not," Loki says. "Do not worry about it."

"Father says he is transferring you elsewhere, that we will not be able to see each other again."

Loki snorts. "Is that what he told you?"

Thor pulls away, wipes an angry hand across his eyes. "Yes. It is the truth, is it not?" There is the slightest of doubts in his voice.

Loki forces a smile onto his face, puts on false cheer. "Of course it is. You should not worry. We will see each other again, this I promise you."

"But I -"

"Oh for Bor's sake, you are as sentimental as your mother. Just leave me, and take your sniffling regret along with you before I show you what real regret looks like." He bares his teeth. He tires of this game. Thor will help him, or he will not. 

His fate, in the hands of Odin's son.

The gods laugh at him, and celebrate their own cleverness.

Thor backs away slowly, says nothing except a goodbye that's swallowed by the sound of his boots scraping across the floor.

 

(23)

Days pass. There is a new prison to be prepared for him, one most likely far less comfortable than this. 

Loki breathes against the glass, writes spells that do not work in the mist left by his breath.

The guard spares him a glance, then faces forward yet again. 

Loki closes his eyes. 

Opens them again, and the guard is gone.

The door opens, and Thor says, "We don't have much time. Hurry." He looks terrified, but tosses Loki a hooded cape with only the slightest hesitation. Loki slips the cape on, follows Thor out the prison. Down a dark corridor, and soon enough he can feel magic returning to his bones. 

"That's far enough," Loki says.

Thor halts and turns around. Loki touches the wall, casts a spell to open a portal. 

"Where does it lead," Thor asks. Here, Loki can see that his eyes are red and his face is streaked. He must have been crying for a while. 

"It's best if you don't know."

A wounded expression crosses Thor's face.

"Jotunheim. I'm going -" he almost chokes on the word. "Home." Loki has allies - his mother, for one. She promised him a kingdom, but counted on his success, instead of him returning in shame, tail between his legs. 

No matter. The battle will be fought another day, and Loki will have his revenge.

"Can I -" Thor clutches at his tunic, and Loki sees him suddenly, for exactly what he is. A child, nothing more. A child near tears at that. "Can I come visit you?"

"I don't think that will be wise."

Thor wavers, glances behind him. "You said father readies for your execution. It is the truth, is it not? He told me otherwise."

Loki reaches out, grazes his damp cheek with the back of his hand. He thinks of answering, but decides in the end to be kind. "Goodbye, young princeling."

"You should hurry. They will come for you soon."

"Tell your father -" Loki begins, before he turns to walk through the portal. 

"Yes?"

"Nothing. Nothing at all."


	3. (a war)

(24)

It is Thrym that comes to Loki. He says, in his severe, understated way, "Your highness. The men have captured trespassers."

"Trespassers?" Few dare step into Jotunheim without express permission, not since Loki ascended the throne.

Thrym hesitates only briefly. "They're Aesir. Youths, from the looks of it. A boy and a girl. The boy carries the insignia of Odin's house."

A boy. Odin only has the one son.

Everything fades away in an instant.

Everything.

 

(25)

They have been chained up in one of the dungeons. Loki's informed that the battle was fierce, that they took down more than their fair share of Giants. "Two Aesir, barely past childhood," Loki says, and Thrym shakes his head.

Loki lets them wait for three days before he ventures down. He sees the girl first. Dark haired, dark eyed - she whips her head around as he enters, and her rage turns to surprise. "You're Aesir," she says.

"Why yes. I should think that young Thor would speak of me often enough, wouldn't he, lovely Lady Sif." 

She starts, but hardens her face. "He barely speaks of you at all, traitor." 

"You lie as badly as he does." 

"Unchain me, and I will show you honesty." She pulls furiously on the chains, looks annoyed that they do not break. 

Loki spreads his hands out. "Magic," he says. "Surtur himself wouldn't be able to break free." 

"By order of the All-Father, I demand you set me -" 

But Loki's stopped listening. He steps towards the other cell, to the chained up form kneeling on the floor. His head hangs low, mess of hair obscuring his face. 

"Thor," Loki says. Thor jerks his head up. He looks different. Not a man just yet, but hardly a child. Somehow, Loki had expected him to look exactly the same. He opens the door to the cell, shuts it behind him. 

"Hey, you leave him alone. I command that you -" Loki turns his head, puts one finger to his lips, and she settles down, but barely.

"Loki," Thor says, and his voice sounds hoarse

"Look at you," he says, after a good long moment where he can do nothing but stare. "Young princeling, allmost grown up. What a surprise, this." He keeps his voice light, mocking. Thor merely lowers his head again, and this time Loki cannot resist. He grabs a fistful of hair, drags him up. "Look at me, boy, when I speak to you." 

Thor widens his eyes, and Loki drops slowly, one leg after another, to his knees. "Release the girl," Thor says. "You do not need her -" 

"Do not speak for me. He does not speak for me. I will not leave without you. Thor -" 

Loki tunes her words out - is aware that she is still talking, but it is so much white noise. He leans in close, whispers into Thor's ear, "You should not have come here, Thor. It was unwise." His skin is still too hot. Loki tilts his head toward his, inhales.

"I am well known for - unwise actions." His voice is only slightly bitter, slightly strained. Deeper. Oh, he's almost a man now. Almost. Youth still marks his features, cheeks plump and pink.

"I did tell you, you would learn to regret your impulsive nature."

"No, I don't recall you telling me that at all. A lot of other things, but not that."

Loki swipes his thumb lightly across Thor's cheek, unable to resist. "Hmm. My mistake, then. Here, let me tell you now: you will regret this."

"So says the liar." And now he's angry, somewhat. But he does not jerk away from Loki's touch. Allows Loki to trail his hand across his throat, press another one to his hip.

"I am a liar. That, I never pretended not to be." The girl starts caterwauling yet again. "Oh, do shut up," Loki says, without turning his attention away from Thor.

"Leave her be," Thor says, as the girl finally quiets down. "Just let her go. She has done nothing to you."

"She's trespassing where she doesn't belong. According to our treaty, this can be considered an act of war. Especially since you're the crown prince. But still - never let it be said that I am not a merciful king, especially when it comes to youthful indiscretions." Loki pauses. "But my mercy does not come without a price."

"What do you want," Thor asks, immediately.

 

(26)

Loki makes them wait for another day before he goes back down into the dungeon. He would make them wait longer, but Thrym says, "My liege, Odin knows where his son is. He is demanding his safe return immediately."

"Hm," Loki says, and rises from his throne. "Tell him he will be able to collect his son tomorrow, so long as he himself journeys to Jotunheim to fetch him."

"Here, sire?"

"Yes. Do as I say, Thrym."

"Aye." Thrym nods his head, and disappears back into the shadows.

As Loki makes his way down, he practises what he is going to say. All fades away, however, when he sees Thor. "What happened," Loki asks, gripping Thor's hair to pull back his head. There is a cut, bloody and swollen, across his cheek. Thor grins, and his teeth are bloody as well. Loki sighs. "Did I not tell you that it is of no use to try to escape?" 

There is no response, merely another grin. 

"You will be pleased to know that your father is coming to fetch you," Loki says. "Tomorrow." He turns slightly towards the female. "He made no mention of your wench. I suppose that means he would like me to keep her."

"She is no wench, you disgraceful son of a -"

Loki grips Thor's chin in his fingers. "Son of who again? Son of Bor, born out of wedlock because your grandfather could not keep his cock sheathed, and given away like a discarded toy to Asgard -"

"Enough," the female snaps, and once again Loki had almost forgotten she's there. "If my king only wants the return of his son, that is enough for me. Let him go."

"You are in no position to make demands, my dear." Loki tightens his grip on Thor's chin, lowers his voice. "Remember you asked me what I wanted?"

Loki can feel him swallow. "Yes," he says, finally.

Loki pauses, then says, "A month. I want a month."

"For what purpose?

"You will swear allegiance to me. For only a month."

Thors eyes widen, and it is almost comical, this. "And in return?"

"In return I will release your whore and will not declare war against Asgard for your insolence."

"My father will not allow this."

"He will if he wants to prevent a war. And if you give your word. On your honor, Thor."

"Why?" Thor asks, and his voice is soft. Still a boy, and Loki can still see traces of the child, that innocence and sweetness that even the years of training weren't able to stamp out.

"Why not?"

"That is not an answer."

"Why did you come here?"

Thor does not reply. 

"Leave him alone, please," the girl says, and now she sounds faintly despairing. 

"Say yes," Loki says. "Just say yes."

"Yes," Thor says, and Loki stops holding his breath. "You have my word."

 

(27)

"Unacceptable," Odin says, with a simmering sort of rage and disgust, and as always, Loki can see traces of himself in his mannerisms, in his very being. It hits him then, with some sort of distant startlement, that he can see traces of Thor as well. The thought gives him pause, for the briefest of moments.

Thor is his nephew, his blood.

The moment passes, and then there's only Odin, and Loki's weakness. "Then we go to war. And here I thought you were tired of the endless battle. Oh, all the pompous speeches I had to sit through, about peace and a unified Nine. Were they just meaningless words, brother mine?"

"You were always a cruel boy," Odin says. "Spiteful, and petty and jealous. And yet I loved you, overlooked your wicked nature, because you were my brother. Because you were my blood. Because I knew that beneath all that hatred there was still a glimmer of Aesir in you, a glimmer of goodness, of strength. Do not do this, Loki. You bring shame upon us all." 

"It is too late," Loki says, and he keeps his voice flat, his face calm. "It is already done."

And Loki doesn't say: he wants everyone to know that Loki had him, had him first and will always be first.

And Loki doesn't say: he wants to mark Thor indelibly as his.

And Loki doesn't say: he wants Thor out of his system, wants him to stop being the ghost that haunts him, for all that he's gone so far to get away from him.

"Father," Thor says, from the entrance of the throne room. Loki nods his head, and the guards release their grip on his arms and fade away. "I will stay with him. I have given him my word."

"I have released the wench, she waits for you in the courtyard."

"This is madness," Odin says, and Loki cannot tell who he's speaking to, until he turns his head and glares at Loki. "I will not sacrifice my own son to play your sick games. He will return to Asgard with me, and I will be merciful and not destroy this realm."

"I will be fine, Father." 

"You are just a boy, and you do not -" 

"I know well enough that I caused this and I will repair it no matter the cost." 

He strides forward and leads Odin aside. Loki allows them to argue, Thor angry and loud and Odin softer but with far more steel in his tone. It does not matter. A vow has been made and it would be a far bigger shame for Thor to break it than it would for him to bear whatever humiliation Loki might choose to inflict.

"A month," Odin says, finally, when Thor is staring at the ground, furiously silent. "He is not to be harmed." 

Loki puts his hand over his heart. "Harm my only nephew? Never. I will treat him as befits a prince of his stature, and nothing less."

"I will not forgive this easily, brother," Odin says, and Loki knows this to be true. Has always known this to be true.

"I never expected you to," Loki says, and turns away.

Odin leaves, and Loki allows Thor to say his farewells to the girl. She launches herself into his arms and they hug, and she whispers too soft for Loki to hear, but Thor merely nods his head, and then pushes her away. "I will be back in a month," he says. "Feed my goats for me."

The girl shoots Loki a filthy look. "If you harm him in any way -"

"Brother, do stop allowing children to threaten me. I do not have the patience to deal with their little tantrums."

She rushes forward, and only halts when Odin says, "Sif, that is enough. Come away."

It must be difficult for her, to do as she is told while Loki smirks. But she does. Moves slowly to stand by Odin's side, and in the white coldness of Jotunheim they are both starkly out of place.

"A month," Thor says.

A flash of light, the scent of ozone and burnt ice, and they are both gone.

Then Loki is alone, with Thor.

Thor tilts his head, and his eyes are so very blue. "So now what," he asks.

"I - " Loki begins, and halts. "Are you hungry?" He cannot recall if he had given instructions for the prisoners to be fed or not. Possibly yes, but perhaps not. It wasn't as if either one was in any danger of starving to death, so it did not matter much.

Thor mutters something unintelligible.

"I will take that as a yes, then. Come along."

Dinner is served in the great hall. Loki sits at the head of the table and points at the seat to the side of him. "Is no one else joining us," Thor says, glancing at the long row of empty seats. 

"Not tonight, no."

Thor eats as if he had not eaten in months, hesitating only slightly at the food that must be nothing at all like he's used to. At Loki's look he says, "I'm hungry. I was not very well fed in your prison."

"I shall make a note to treat interlopers who assault my men better, then." Thor bites down on a squishy black thing, makes a face. "Blood worm," Loki says, and waits for Thor to spit it out. 

He merely continues to chew though, and after swallowing offers Loki a red stained smile. "You're not eating yours?" 

Loki does not. Will not. "Enjoy your food," he says. "While you still can." Thor's smile slips off his face.

Helblindi slides into the room, and Loki says, "Yes, sister?" before she can speak. 

Thor's head jerks up, with some interest. Helblindi is staring. "Odinson," she says. "Your nephew, and so he would be my -"

"Half-nephew, I suppose," Loki says, with little interest. Helblindi continues to stare, as Thor smiles at her. "What do you want?"

"Mother requests an audience, brother." Her tone is faintly dry. 

Loki sighs. "I don't suppose it can wait."

"No, she says it cannot." The dryness becomes more pronounced.

Loki sighs again, says, "Fine. Tell her I will be there shortly."

Helblindi bows, and takes her leave. When she is gone Thor turns to him, eyes wide. "She is female, yes? Your sister?"

"Yes, I believe that my _sister_ is female. Shall I call her back so you can examine the color of her sex?"

Thor's face darkens. "I did not mean to -"

"Do you ever?" Loki shakes his head, stands up. "Finish your food. When you are done the guards will escort you to my chambers. The handmaidens will ensure you are ready."

Thor pales, and only after the longest of moments, during which he must surely be fighting rage, he nods his head. "Anything else?" he asks.

"No, that will be all," Loki replies, as mild as possible. "Enjoy the rest of your meal."

Mother is dreadful, and tiresome, and Loki is forced to tolerate her for far too long before he is finally given a reprieve and allowed to make his way back to his chambers. 

On the bed, Thor is hidden under a mountain of furs. Loki tugs them back until he uncovers a golden head, the hair obscuring most of his face. Loki reaches out tentatively, brushes thick strands out of his forehead. Thor doesn't stir, and his breathing remains quiet and steady.

Fast asleep, of course he would be.

And occupying most of the bed as well, leaving no room at all for Loki.

Loki ends up in one of the antechambers, unable to sleep in an unfamiliar bed.

 

(28)

A month is no time at all, it will pass with sure and utter swiftness, and yet Loki spends the next two days tied up in Jotunheim affairs, and barely seeing Thor at all. He ends the day too late and has to rise too early, and so he doesn't bother with his own chambers at all, leaving Thor largely to his own devices.

Perhaps it's just the anticipation that crawls, that knot in his stomach bigger than a Frost Giant's fist. 

The third day, he asks Thrym, "Where is my nephew," after returning to his chambers and finding it missing a prince.

"Ah, I believe he has gone out with a hunting party, sire."

"A hunting party. Whose? Why was he allowed?"

"You did not specify that he was to be confined to the castle."

"So I did not," Loki says. "My mistake, that."

Thor returns in the evening, riding a white bear five times his size, after Loki has spent the entire day fuming. There's a beam on his face as he dismounts and strides towards Loki, waving a cheerful goodbye to the hunters, who are equally ebullient in their own farewells. The smile falters only somewhat at Loki's crossed arms and disdainful stare.

"What?"

"I did not give you permission to leave."

"You were busy. Besides, I have returned."

"That is not the point. I did not give you permission to leave." 

Thor shrugs, makes to brush past him but Loki grabs his elbow, and he stills. He stinks of sweat and blood and grime. A warrior's mark. "Let me go," Thor says.

"Or what? You forget your place." Loki leans in, lowers his voice to hiss into his ear. "Shall I show you how a king of Jotunheim deals with disobedience?"

"Badly, I assume, considering how your subjects loathe you."

Loki smiles. "They fear me, and they respect me. You will learn that soon enough." He turns to the nearest guard, says, "Have him cleaned and oiled, and brought to me. I will be waiting in the throne room." 

"You cannot -"

"I can do whatever I want. Your word, remember?"

At that, Thor simmers down, his anger muting somewhat, and when the guard puts a massive paw on the back of his neck, he allows himself to be led away, his head lowered.

Loki sweeps into the throne room, scattering Giants everywhere as they make way for him. He takes a seat on his throne to wait. It doesn't take long for Thor to be pushed into the hall. He's been oiled as commanded, stripped of all but a loincloth and his knee-high winter boots. The oil turns his body into a softly gleaming work of art, but he must be cold because he shivers as he stands, as far away from the throne as possible. 

Thor grits his teeth as he approaches, drops to his knees in front of Loki, and Loki thinks to say, through the pounding in his head, "I remember when you begged to have me in your mouth." 

Thor glances up, and there is so much rage behind his lashes. He is beautiful. "You were not who I thought you were." 

"And who did you think I was?" 

"Someone who mattered."

Loki almost slaps him across his petulant face, but winds his fingers into Thor's long hair instead. "Enough talk. What are you waiting for? Or do you only want my cock when I am helpless and imprisoned." 

A vein in Thor's forehead throbs as his fingers stutter against Loki's breeches, tentative and unwilling. Loki cannot stand it. He pushes Thor's hands away in disgust, says, "Get up. Leave me - I have had enough of you for today."

Thor rises to his feet with slow deliberation, but he doesn't leave. Instead he puts his palms on the arms of the throne and lifts himself up to press his lips to Loki's. 

It's only because Loki is so surprised that he allows it, accepts the wet slide of Thor's tongue flickering briefly into his mouth. Then he presses a fist against his chest, pushes him away. "I said leave me," he says. "You little -" He can't finish the thought. 

Thor merely bows his head and steps back, down the steps, only turning when he reaches the final one.

Loki can taste him in his mouth, long after Thor leaves.

 

(29)

Thor slinks into the throne room, after Loki has finished a tiresome round of negotiations with Karnilla. "You should not trust her," he says.

"Of course I don't trust her, are you mad? I don't trust anyone."

"How lonely you must be then," Thor says, and there's something akin to pity in his eyes. 

Loki rises from the throne, stalks over. "Alone, perhaps. But not lonely." He touches Thor on the throat. "You keep skulking around. Perhaps I should collar you, put a bell on it so it will ring and I will know if you are where you're not supposed to be."

"I'm not a dog," Thor says, and slaps Loki's hand away. "And I have been forbidden from leaving this place. What should I do, then, besides skulk."

"You are mine to do with as I see fit. A collar without a bell, maybe. I am merciful." He's distantly aware that his own voice has grown thick, and he fights to bring his attention back.

Thor's watching him. "I am not a dog," he repeats.

"No, just a boy who will call others lonely and yet fail to recognize it in themselves. Tell me, what kind of a child searches out and seduces his own uncle? And after he tried to kill your father, too."

"I -" Thor starts. "I was merely curious."

"And yet you kept returning - threw yourself at me like a common whore."

"Hardly common," Thor says, but the muscles in his jaw clench. "You seemed lost. That's why I kept returning."

"Well I am hardly lost now, am I?" Loki bares his teeth.

Thor looks at him. "No, I suppose you are not."

 

(30)

The dwarves craft the collar for him, an urgent task that Loki sets them to with promises that he has no intention of keeping. It's the purest shade of silver, thin and fortified with magic, runes that are engraved beneath it. Thor will feel them against his skin. 

Loki fastens it around his neck, melts the clasp so it's an entirely smooth, unbroken circle. 

"It feels hot."

"When we are in close proximity, it will. It reacts to my presence."

"What have you done to me," Thor asks, prying his finger under the collar.

Loki pulls Thor's hand away and tightens the band so there's no space at all. "Can you breathe," he asks. 

"Take it off," Thor demands, yet again. Clearly he can breathe well enough to complain.

"It's only a collar. At least you're not chained to my bed," Loki adds pointedly. Thor starts, blanches.

The collar's exquisite, and Loki cannot stop staring at it, at how it looks against Thor's skin. He has business to attend to that cannot really wait. It will have to. 

He takes Thor by the arm, propels him towards his chambers. He pushes Thor onto the bed, face down, and Thor scrambles forward, turns himself over. Loki puts his knees onto the bed, says, "Stay still." Thor just glares at him, chin tilted up in defiance. Loki hooks his fingers under Thor's knee, drags him forward. His other hand lands on Thor's waist, above the sharp line of his hip. "Still," Loki says. "Be a good boy."

"For the last time, I am not your dog, you wretched -" His words cut off abruptly as Loki tightens the collar, enough that he knows it will cut off air supply. He only loosens it when he's sure Thor will behave. Thor gasps and gulps in air, the red in his face slowly fading away. 

"You behave, now."

"You are a dreadful creature," Thor says, and wipes his hand across the back of his eyes. "The All-Father is right. There is no hope of redemption for the likes of you."

Loki sighs and settles back onto his heels, waits until Thor's has composed himself enough to scowl at him again. "Are you quite done?" 

Thor nods his head.

"Good, then go get yourself cleaned up. Dinner will be served soon, and I expect you to be presentable."

It is not working, none of this.

Perhaps a change in tactic, then.

 

(31)

"Where are we going," Thor asks. There is a mutinous expression on his face. 

Loki takes the reigns of the sled, jerks his head for Thor to sit next to him. "You seem so fond of Jotunheim, I thought I would show you something."

"If this is another one of your tricks -"

"Get in the sled, I command you," Loki says, and that is enough to propel Thor into action. He lands in the sled with a heavy thump, crosses his arms across his chest and continues to look annoyed.

Loki decides to ignore his rudeness, jerks on the reins instead for the bears to start moving. 

They travel far, to a place Loki can access almost instantly with magic, but Thor needs a chance to simmer down, and perhaps the icy cold wind in his face will subdue some of that heat. 

It seems to, for as they near the ravine Thor is more focused on shivering and blinking snow out of his eyes than favoring Loki with irritated glares. Loki halts the bears, and when he turns to Thor he finds him rapt, mouth fallen slightly open.

"What is this place," Thor asks, and there is faint wonder in his voice. He clambers down the sled, takes heavy steps to the edge of the ravine, his feet sinking deep into the fallen snow,

"It is said," Loki says, raising his voice over the thunder of the water as it rages beneath them, shrouded in darkness such that the wall of sound is the only evidence it exists. "That across the river lies Asgard, that all that separates the two realms is this ravine, impossible to pass." 

Thor squints into the distance, but as always, it is obscured by mist. 

"It is not true, of course. Merely light reflecting across the snow, giving the illusion of gold." Loki does not mention how often he has stood here, for the merest glimpse of a mirage.

He is Loki, of Asgard, and it is a sickness he will never be rid of.

"I have always wanted," Thor begins, then halts. "I looked for danger, and rarely did I think of the consequences. Jotunheim, the Jotuns. You." Loki starts, and almost loses his footing as the ground gives way beneath him, rocks tumbling into the darkness. But Thor's hand is on his arm, pulling him back to safety. He releases Loki as soon as Loki is steady, turns a pensive gaze downwards. "What happens if you fall," he asks. "How deep does it run? I cannot see the river at all."

"Too deep," Loki says. "But not as deep as you imagine. The black rock absorbs the light."

"Hmm."

"No," Loki says, and now he is the one to grab Thor's arm, to hold him back. "We do not know what is down there. Giants rumble over, and never climb back up."

Thor only looks more intrigued, but after a moment he shrugs. "Another day, perhaps."

"Perhaps."

"Why did you bring me here?"

Lokis still holding on to his arm. He squeezes it, says, "Come along, Thor. We should return before the sun sets. It is not safe after dark."

 

(32)

The woman that gave birth to him emerges from her wing of the castle once a month to sit at his side at the table in the grand hall, gloating over her triumph at bearing a king. 

Nevermind that all she ever did was push him out and give him to Asgard.

"Your mother?" Thor says with some suspicion when Loki tells him to prepare himself for the evening.

"Yes, my mother. I do have one, contrary to popular opinion." He affixes a smile on his face, tries for friendliness.

"What kind of food will be served?" 

"Only the best for the crown prince of Asgard." 

Thor snorts.

He puts Thor at his left, because Farbauti's discomfort at his presence pleases him. Because Thor's presence pleases him, for all that he seems determined to sulk.

Youth. Loki cannot remember being this young, this brash and foolish. He would not have bargained away his self for a month, not if there were nothing to be gained save for the avoidance of war and someone else's life.

Thor's misery fades as the evening passes. He keeps worrying at the collar, but stops when Loki loosens it so it rests low on his throat. 

"How's your food," Loki asks. 

"Delicious." 

"Liar."

Thor only flashes him a grin. 

Farbauti coughs, and there's a rustle of material as she shifts in her chair. Loki does not care. "This is food fit only for royalty," she says. "You should be grateful that -" 

Loki rolls his eyes. "Here we go again." 

"You are spineless for not only leaving Odin's spawn alive but inviting him to share dinner with us. You bring shame to us all." 

"Thor," Thor says. "My name is Thor Odinson, heir to the throne of Asgard, your highness."

"I believe the boy's trying to tell you that you should conduct yourself in a manner that befits both your stations," Loki says. "Mother," he adds as an afterthought.

Farbauti settles for shooting the occasional barb and spiteful glower after that. 

It leaves Loki free to ignore her, and encourage Thor to expand his palate, just a little. "No, but try it," he says, putting a piece of roasted eel to Thor's mouth. 

"If I fall sick -" 

"You will whine and be an insufferable brat about it, I'm aware." 

Thor takes it from his outstretched hand gamely enough, manages to swallow the meat without choking. "It's," he pronounces after swallowing, "edible."

Loki laughs.

When the evening is finally over, Thor follows Loki readily enough down the hallway to his chambers. Loki says, "You really need not have kissed her hand goodbye."

"I see where you get your charming personality from."

"It certainly wasn't from Bor."

Thor has taken to sleeping in one of the antechambers, and Loki has yet to stop him. When they reach the archway, Thor leans over and kisses him on the cheek, whispers, "You are better than her."

And then he's gone.

 

(33)

Karnilla visits again, with her usual dramatics and air of disdain. The only reason Loki introduces her to Thor is because Thor barges in, interrupting their conversation. "My nephew," Loki says, as they both look expectantly at him. "Karnilla, Queen of the Norns."

"Your highness," Thor says, with the stiff politeness of the extremely unimpressed.

"Nephew? Do not tell me he is the Odinson."

"Regretfully," Loki says.

Karnilla perks up. "Well, aren't you a handsome boy. I expected you to be taller, though."

"I am not yet fully grown," Thor says.

"Hmm," Karnilla says. Her fingers wander to the collar, gleaming on Thor's throat. "Interesting jewelry. Did the dwarves craft this?" 

Thor steps away, closer to Loki. 

Loki raises his own hand to the collar, to ensure that she has not inflicted any kind of magic upon it. With Karnilla, one can never be careful enough. He finds his hand lingering, even as Karnilla laughs.

"Has he collared you like a dog, Prince of Asgard? Oh, how delightful." 

Thor shoots him a betrayed look. Loki shrugs: it is hardly a well-kept secret, that Thor is in Jotunheim. "I am nobody's dog," Thor says, low.

"Your appearance would prove otherwise."

"Karnilla, that is quite enough." It comes out far more harsh than Loki had intended, and he will pay for it, but for now he does not care. "Perhaps you should retire to your chambers for the night. I have prepared your usual rooms and - entertainment for the night."

"Fine," Karnilla says. "I shall leave you with your pet. But do remember there are matters that must be discussed by this evening."

"Then I will see you later."

"Goodnight, sweet Odinson," Karnilla tells Thor. She sweeps away, and only then does Thor's fury subside somewhat.

"She disrespects me because of this -" Thor cannot finish his sentence, gesticulates wildly at his neck instead. 

"She disrespects you because she's Karnilla." Loki slides his thumb under the collar, rubs at the skin there. "It is not coming off," he says, distracted by the faint bruise forming beneath the collar.

Thor goes very still. "You should attend to her," his says, his voice soft. "She does not seem as if she enjoys being made to wait."

Loki breaks the contact reluctantly, steps away. "Yes, I suppose I should."

 

(34)

"So some of the huntsmen are leaving on a day long trek across the tundras. There's game to be had. No worms."

Thor makes a face. "Are you mocking me?"

"I will be occupied the whole day," Loki says, then adds, "I'm told that when left alone you bother the kitchen help with pitiful requests for 'digestable' food."

"I only ask for food that you yourself eat," Thor says pointedly. "And they are happy to serve it to me."

"Yes, I'm told that as well. 'Oh, your nephew's such a delight, are you certain he does not have Jotun blood', they gush. You have a way with old crones, apparently."

Thor's grin is lazy as he tilts his head. "I seem to, yes."

Loki waves his hand with some impatience. "Go, stop harassing my staff. Make yourself useful and hunt something worth killing." Thor's surprised start of pleasure is like a hot fist around Loki's heart. He thins his lips, tries to look impatient to be rid of him. 

Thor's grin only widens as he takes ahold of Loki's arms. "I will hunt," he says. "For glory. For you." The oddest sound escapes from Loki's mouth, entirely against his will. Thor drops his hands, color rising to his cheeks.

"Do try not to get yourself killed," Loki says, once he has cleared his throat. "My brother will not be pleased."

In the evening, Thor returns with a creature twice his size strapped over his shoulder. He drops it at Loki's feet like a cat presenting a gift to its owner. "Dinner," he says.

Loki steps back in mild distaste, snaps his fingers towards the guards. "Well, don't just stand there. Tell the kitchen to be ready for a feast." He forgets them, almost as soon as they have carted the carcass off, focused instead on the blood streaked across Thor's cheek, the wild, satisfied gleam in his eyes. He is Odin's son, through and through.

It should disgust Loki.

Instead he has to stop himself from taking a fistful of Thor's coat in his hands, to haul him close. "You should take a bath," he says. "You are filthy."

Another time, another place, and Loki's words would have been ignored.

Here, now, Thor nods his head, then turns and walks away.

 

(35)

"Are there only the two of us for dinner tonight as well," Thor asks, as he slides into the chair on Loki's right. 

"I invited my mother, but she was unavailable," Loki says. 

"What a shame."

The meat has been roasted with herbs, and its flavor bursts in Loki's mouth. Thor is disinclined to savor it, he tears at the meat with relish, sharp teeth making quick work of it.

Loki just watches.

He stops Thor after his fifth stein of mead, says, "I will not carry you if you collapse drunk into your food." 

"I am hardly drunk." Thor sounds offended at the very thought. "I could drink twice this much at half my age."

"At half your age, twice this was approximately your body weight. I do remember what a slip of a child you were." In response, Thor merely lowers his head, frowns morosely at his empty plate. "Should I request for more bloodworms?"

Thor's glare is indignant. "I brought you pie. And chocolate."

"Bloodworm is a royal delicacy in Jotunheim. I believe we are now even."

"I hunted this beast for you - I do not feel this is remotely close to even."

"Finish your mead," Loki says.

The evening winds down, slows down interminably as the knot in Loki's belly tightens. And yet he cannot bring himself to end it - waits instead for the gluttonous boy-child to declare himself done and rise from the table with a loaded glance in Loki's direction as he takes his leave.

Loki follows.

Down the winding hallways to Loki's chambers, at the slowest pace imaginable. Loki loses his patience, and when he pushes Thor against the wall there's no resistance, only a slight grimace. "Are you cold?" 

"It's bearable." 

Loki slides his hand to the back of Thor's head, buries it in thick waves of hair before he leans in. He doesn't kiss Thor, not until Thor nods his head, a movement felt rather than seen. Loki presses their bodies close together, pushes Thor further into the wall, until he is almost lifted up on it. He drags it out as Thor starts to shiver, his fingers dug into Loki's coat. 

"I would take you here," Loki says, through the fog of desire coiling up his spine, as he undoes Thors breeches to tug his cock out. "If you were -" He cannot finish, lifts Thor up instead, uses his upper thighs and hips to support Thor as he wraps his legs around his waist. 

Thor's cock is flush against his belly, and Loki slides his hand up the length, and then down again, as Thor tries his best to thrust up into it. It doesn't take much before he finishes with a low, guttural growl, seed splattering across Loki's front. 

Loki cannot think for how much he _wants_ , how much he needs. 

He releases Thor and Thor slides down, lands on the floor in a graceless heap, his laughter soft, contented. He lowers his gaze to Loki's crotch as Loki stares down at him, says, "I've gotten better." 

"Are you going to prove it?" Loki somehow manages to say, and there's a pounding in his head, a rush of blood that almost sings, so very sweetly. 

"Yes." He rises to his knees and shuffles close, undoes Loki's breeches before he presses his face against the fabric. 

It's slow, and Loki has to press his palms against the wall for support, try to keep his composure as Thor takes him in, glances upwards to gauge his reaction, to learn. "Have you never - after me?" Thor lowers his gaze. "Ah," Loki says.

He doesn't last long either, pulls away until he's almost out to spill onto Thor's tongue. Thor swallows and licks his lips, and Loki puts hand to Thor's mouth, runs his thumb along his wet, swollen lower lip. "Better than anything we ate tonight," Thor says. 

"Don't let my mother hear you," Loki says. He extends a hand, pulls Thor to his feet. "She would not be pleased." 

"I don't think it's possible that she could like me less," Thor says, frowning in consternation. As if it's beyond him that anyone wouldn't fall for his ungainly charm.

The collar glimmers under the dim light, faintly silver. Loki touches it, reshapes it so it returns back to its original tightness. 

"Take it off," Thor says.

"No." 

"Why?" 

"Because its presence around your neck gives me pleasure." 

"Fine, then." There is no expression on his face whatsoever. 

Loki kisses him again, just to wipe it away.

 

(36)

Thor keeps asking about the ravine, follows Loki around as he tries to tend to the kingdom. "Yes, but what _is_ down there?"

Loki sighs. "I did not bring you there so you may ask me incessant questions about it. It is the bridge between this realm and Hel, are you satisfied now?"

"Is it really?" There is a dangerous gleam in his eyes.

"No. It is merely a river. I forbid you to - all of it. I forbid all of it." He stalks off, but Thor trails after him like a persistent child after a toy. Loki halts, and spins around, forcing Thor to skid to a stop to prevent a collision. "I could take you someplace else."

"Where?"

"Come with me," Loki says. "We go to Nornheim."

"To see Karnilla?" Thor sniffs distastefully.

"Hardly. Now close your eyes."

The tree is as tall and as forbidding as Loki remembers. "The last time I was here, your father and I managed to find ourselves lost. It was my seidr that saved us, but of course your father claimed it was Gungnir." Thor gapes at it, and Loki says, "Have you not been anywhere at all? When I was your age I had already wandered far and wide - even the Einherjar could not perpetually keep an eye on us."

"I was rarely allowed outside, even into the city, not after -" he cuts himself off abruptly, says instead, "Father tells me you were responsible for most of the scrapes that he found himself in."

Loki snorts. "Your father is excellent at remembering history as he chooses."

"He also says that about you. You are both -" Again he does not finish, but takes a step towards the yawning darkness under the tree's exposed roots. 

Loki puts his hand on the back of his neck, and Thor stills. "Do you seek glory so badly, son of Odin?"

"I seek redemption," Thor says, and pulls away. But he halts at Loki's command, turns around to wait. 

"You can seek it later, when you are no longer mine." He takes Thor's chin in his hand, tilts it up to seek a kiss. Thor exhales against Loki's mouth, grabs the lapels of his coat. Loki presses Thor back against a dark, heavy root and takes his wrists into his hands, twists them both against the rough bark. 

Thor's breath is stuttered, and Loki can feel the hard line of his cock against his thigh. Loki slides to his knees, uncaring of the soft dark mud staining his clothes. He undoes Thor's breeches with swift care, and still Thor pushes against him with something akin to desperation. Loki kisses the tip of his cock, says, "I feel you need to be shown how it is done."

"Please," is Thor's only reply. Loki swallows him down until he's almost choking on it, until all he tastes, smells and feels is Thor's hot heat, until all he hears is Thor's hitching breaths, his soft cries. 

He finishes without warning, bucks until Loki holds him still by the hips, until he has taken all of Thor's seed in, swallowed as much as he can. Thor sways on his feet when Loki releases him, and finally drops to the ground, his legs falling open.

"You have not yet -" Thor says, and nods at Loki's crotch, where his own cock aches.

Loki wants, he wants. "Not here, not now," he says. 

He leaves the word unspoken, yet Thor blushes, averts his gaze:

Soon.

 

(37)

Loki's waited too long. He's not even sure why: the boy's not going to be any different tomorrow from how he is today. In Loki's chambers, on Loki's bed, he kisses Thor with this horrible need that he cannot help. Thor is naked. Loki is not. 

"Let me," Loki says, settling himself in between Thor's open thighs.

"I have a choice then?" Thor speaks lightly, but there is a dark edge to his voice. 

Loki shifts away, until he can see Thor's face. "There are always choices. You can say no. I will stop." He wraps his fingers around Thor's cock, slides them up once. Thor shimmies up into his hand and moans. "You can say no, and I will let you go home. Right now."

"And what do you want?" Thor asks.

Loki stills. "It is an easy enough question, Thor," he says, after he can find his breath. "Yes or no." 

"If you ask," Thor says after a moment. "I will say no."

"And what if I don't ask?" Thor merely turns his head away, and exhales. Loki says, "I should have said no." Thor snaps his eyes open. "You were a child. You are still a child. I should have said no. Say no."

"Yes," Thor says instead. He bends his knee up, wraps it around Loki's waist. "You may have me, if you want."

Loki laughs. It sounds like a bark to his own ears.

So, this kind of monster then.

Yet again.

He tries to go slow, or as slow as he can. There's oil, warmed by magic, but even then Thor grunts when Loki slides into him, and his gaze turns glassy with pain. "Shh," Loki says, when Thor starts heaving instinctively against him, and he sinks down, resting his body weight against Thor's. He's still part Frost Giant, in weight if not in size, and Loki knows he is probably twice as heavy as Thor is. 

"Wait," Thor says, and exhales. Loki can feel every muscle in his body trembling. There's sweat on his brow, even in this cold, and when he drops his head back Loki can see him gulp down air. The collar still gleams on his throat, silvery bright.

Loki waits. 

Until Thor nods, and then Loki starts to move again. Thor says, "Loki," and his voice breaks.

Everything fades away.

Everything.

 

(38)

They don't do much else, after that. Loki presses Thor down into the furs in his chambers, pushes him into darkened hallway corners. Thor comes to distract him while he is attempting to make important political decisions, demanding attention until Loki gives in and dismisses everyone else.

"I do have matters to attend to, you know," Loki says, after one such evening ends in clothes strewn all over the banquet table and Thor in a satisfied heap beneath it.

"Nothing that important, surely. What is there to settle in this little kingdom?" 

Loki scowls. "So says the future king of Asgard. I wonder if my brother weeps each night that he has but one son, and it is you."

Thor tosses his tunic at Loki's head and laughs.

Loki drags him to his chambers, and they waste another few hours as the sun sets. "The orchids will just be coming into bloom in Asgard," Loki says distantly, as he idly rubs his own spent seed into the skin on Thor's chest. Thor has paled somewhat in the harsh Jotun weather, gold faded to a lighter shade. "I always did love your mother's devotion to them - they die at the slightest provocation."

"I sometimes think Mother loves those things more than she does me."

"Did she rename that plant after I left?" It was a gift, a violent green and black hybrid that Frigga dedicated hours of time towards, back when Loki would travel far and wide to bring her seeds and samples from the most exotic of lands.

"No, it is still named after you." Thor makes a face, and if he is anything at all like Odin he has precious little interest or patience for delicate flowers that bloom under only the strictest supervision and care.

"I bet that pleases your father."

"He is not as bad as you make him out to be," Thor says, and his face takes on a more guarded cast, as it always does when Odin is brought up.

"You defend him, still." Loki hardens his voice. "Will you be the same kind of king that he is, then? Without mercy, without compromise. Has he forgiven even his own son for a youthful transgression?"

"I -"

Loki lifts his head, so he can see Thor's face more clearly. "Why did you come to Jotunheim?"

Thor's eyes are hooded, unreadable. "Why do you think I came?"

"If you'd come alone -"

"She wasn't supposed to come with me. But she became concerned, and I -" He turns his head, and there is the faint smattering of gold fuzz on his jaw. Almost a man, but not quite yet. "No one was supposed to know, but Asgard is not good at keeping secrets. They said you lied to me, manipulated and seduced me in order to gain your freedom."

"I did," Loki says, and it should be hard, this honesty. He should follow it with a lie. Or perhaps the truth.

"It does not matter," Thor says. "Not anymore."

"No, I don't suppose it does. What will they say now?"

Thor's smile is bitter. "Only the truth. But I will survive this as well."

Loki traces the line of Thor's cheek with his fingers, and Thor turns his face into his palm. "At least," he says, and his voice cracks somewhat, "You can still return home."

"I could speak to father."

Loki turns his face away. "There is nothing you could say that would possibly have any effect on him, you know this." 

"When I am king," Thor says, his voice slightly muffled as he kisses Loki's fingers. "When I am king, you will come home."

 

(39)

The month draws closer and closer to its end, and Loki finds himself struck with something akin to dread.

Thor, on his part, seems blissfully unaware of the passage of time. He is a child, of course he thinks nothing of the future, save for when he will next be able to drown himself in pleasure.

"You play a dangerous game," Helblindi tells him, on a morning when he has sent Thor to hunt. He's standing on the balcony to watch his tiny form disappear from view, surrounded by Giants and a sea of ice. 

"I do not know what you mean."

She nods her head at the hunting party. "You toy with his affection, and you imagine that you remain untouched by it. But that is not true. His very presence in Jotunheim changes things."

"Are you accusing me of sentimentality, dear sister," Loki says, and crosses his hands behind his back. "Surely you should know by now that I am beyond such softness."

"I only know that I would kill the son of Odin if he were to step foot in my kingdom, and put his head up on a spike for all to see."

"That may yet come to pass," Loki says, even though not even a glimmer of the thought had ever crossed his mind. "The month is not yet over."

Thor returns in the evening, and finds Loki deep in contemplation. "Why so serious," he asks, as he wraps his arms around Loki from behind, presses his face inbetween Loki's shoulderblades. 

And Loki thinks: he will return to Asgard to learn to be king, and forget Loki, exiled in this wasteland.

And Loki thinks: he will never be able to go home.

And Loki thinks: it cannot stand.

 

(40)

"I believe it's time for you to leave." 

"What?" Thor is barely listening. There is another beast slung around his shoulders, and his eyes are dark and wild, gaze focused on Loki's mouth.

"I have sent word to Odin. He will arrange to collect you today." He has to force the words out, it is as if he is choking. 

Thor finally starts to pay attention. The smile fades away slowly. "But it has not yet been a Jotun month."

"So? I have already gotten what I wanted, have I not?" He keeps his voice flat, allows his gaze to travel down Thor's frame and then up again, derisive and dismissive. "I admit, I thought it would take me longer than it did. But I had forgotten how desperate for affection you were."

Thor's mouth falls open, and he drops his prize to the ground. It lands with a thump, discarded and forgotten almost immediately. The creature's mouth is bared: sharp yellowed teeth that will not snap any longer. "Why would you say such things?" 

"Because you bore me." Loki turns, and he knows Thor follows as he retreats back into the safety of the throne room. He halts, and spins around. "You bore me, and I am done with you."

"You are lying," Thor says. 

"What - why would I lie to you? Are you so desperate for my cock that you would pretend this is not what it is? I have taken what I wanted from you, and now you are of no value to me."

Thor's face turns dark, and even in his rage he is beautiful, he is incandescent. "You are a liar," he repeats. "You think I do not know that you would consider my affection for you an asset? That you would not want an ally in the house of Odin? Why do this, then?"

"Because you're pathetic, and even I can't keep this up anymore." He is practically shouting, he cannot help himself.

"Stop it," Thor snarls. "Stop." Loki turns yet again, walks up to the throne and sits down. This time, Thor does not follow. Instead he stands at the bottom of the stairs and stares up, and he is no longer angry. He says, soft, "You are afraid."

"I am hardly afraid of you, child."

"No, you are merely afraid of what this might mean. You are a coward."

"And you are Odin's son - do you understand that? I cannot -" He cannot have him, and this is the only truth that matters, in the end. "You should never have come to see me. I wish you had not. I would have escaped regardless, instead I have to deal with your cloying affection and childish romantic notions." Loki hardens his voice, and he can see the glimmer of understanding start to spark in Thor's eyes. "As King of Jotunheim, I hereby release you from your vow. You are free to leave. Now _go._ "

A twist of his hand, and the collar breaks apart, falls to pieces at Thor's feet. Forged by dwarves, held together by Loki's will. 

Thor puts his hand to his throat, takes one step back, and then another. "You are right," he says, and his voice is hollow. "I should never have come."

Loki puts his hand to his face, covers his eyes wearily. "Just leave, please."

"I will tell my father you are sorry," Thor says.

"You can tell him whatever you wish."

He opens his eyes, and he is alone.

**Author's Note:**

> Written as a single line extra for **consent play** , **virginity/celibacy** , **authority figures** , **ropes/chains** and **verbal humiliation**.


End file.
